


Old Souls

by spikesgirl58



Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon and Illya are but two shapes that this very old love has taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Souls

Napoleon sighed at the softness of the linens against his skin. This was pure heaven.  Work had been stressful and all he wanted to do was to lose himself to mindless oblivion. The worst part of his job was saying goodbye to fallen agents.  Even with Illya by his side, the task was no easier.  Napoleon closed his eyes and was asleep before another minute had passed.

                                                                                ****

There was the sound of a battle all around him.  He kept a firm grip on his shield and struck out with his _gladius_.  He desperately wanted to look for his partner and lover but they were in battle and the battle was everything.

There was a horn signaling a retreat, but not theirs.  The battle was won!  He fell to his knees, his armor too heavy to support and gave thanks to Mars for a victory.  He staggered to his feet and looked around at the carnage.

“Julius Nepos!” he shouted, but there was no answer, except the moans of the wounded and dying.

He called to his lover again and again, when quite by chance; his eye was caught by a flash of color.  With a groan, he made his way to the spot and turned over the body.

Blue eyes, squinting against the pain, met his and he murmured, “Julius Nepos.”  He hugged the man, limp in his arms.  “I will bring help.”

“No, Neratius Scipio, it’s too late for that.”

“What are you saying?  It isn’t.”

“It is.”  A trembling hand found his cheek.  “I will forever be thankful of your love.”

“We can’t be parted.  You heard what the seer said.  We are two souls bound.  You can’t leave me.”

The man in his arms sighed and the blond head fell back.  Neratius sat and wept, never feeling the killing blow to his head.

                                                                                ****

He was being led to the stake.  He’d been declared unworthy of life.  His crime – the love of his fellow man.  They’d been discovered in each other’s arms and had fled.  Isen had escaped, but Nepranus was captured.

 _Isen_.  The name filled Nepranus with sadness.  They’d only just discovered their love for each other and were consummating it when discovered.  This was a sin punishable by the Church, yet neither man cared.  Their love spread its wing and flew above convention.

At least now Isen would be spared.  He had made good his escape and only Nepranus was captured.  He insisted that he knew not the name of the man he coupled with.  Even under torture, he refused to speak his lover’s name.

For that reason, his death would be a victory.  He’d die for a belief and for love.  To his way of thinking, it was honorable.  Whether God saw it that way was anyone’s guess.

He was led to the stake and his hands bound.  All around him people crowded to watch the sodomite burn.  Nepranus wondered if any of them were willing to die for love.  By their jeers, he doubted it.

The charges were read and the fire was lit. 

He closed his eyes, praying for strength that he might bear the agony he knew awaited him.  Then there was a scream from the crowd and Nepranus’s eyes opened.

Isen was fighting his way through the crowd.  He struggled against the hands that tried to holding him as he attempted to plunge into the fire.

With horror, Nepranus felt Isen’s arms around him and felt the man’s body convulse in pain.

“Leave me,” Nepranus moaned. 

“Never.”  At that point a spear, thrown by one of Nepranus’s men, put them both out of their misery.

                                                                                ****

The sight of seeing his lover’s body hanging from a tree limb was nearly too much for Nate to bear.  He practically jumped off his horse and hurried to the man’s side. 

He cut the rope and lowered Isaiah to the ground and ripped the noose from his neck.  “Why?” he shouted.

“Because you’re a panty waist.”  Nate’s father stepped from behind a nearby boulder. 

“You had no right!”  Nate hugged Isaiah closer, praying for any sign of life in the man. 

“I had every right.  Your ma, she did you wrong.  She’s paid for that.  Now I’m gonna make a man out of you.”

Nate lowered Isaiah to the dusty Oklahoma ground and caressed his cheek.  Their time together had been so short, too short, and yet it felt as if they’d had years with each other.

“Wouldn’t that mean you’d have to be a man first?  All I see is some dirty two-bit loser who gets his kicks slapping around women and hurting good men.”

That enraged his father, just as Nate knew it would.  The man’s gun was out and pointed at Nate’s chest before Nate could draw a breath.  “You little bastard…”

“You should know.  It takes one to know one.”  Nate made a feigned move to pull his pistol and caught the first bullet in the heart.  It was fatal, so he didn’t really feel the others as they riddled his body.  All he knew was that he had no intention of living without Isaiah and now he didn’t have to.”

                                                                                ****

He caught Ike’s arm and smiled.  “What’s going on?”  All around them was the mud and the stink of war, but all Nick saw was the love in Ike’s eyes.

“The captain says they’re going to make another push so we need to get ready.  So much for our plans for tonight.  No loving in this foxhole.”  Ike smiled, but Nick could see the regret in his eyes.   Tonight was their one-year anniversary and they’d planned as nice a celebration as possible in the middle of a war.  For weeks, they had been squirreling away treats for this occasion.

“It’s okay.”  Ike glanced around and chanced a fast kiss.   “There’s always tomorrow… and the day after that and the day after that...”  That’s when the bomb landed on them.

                                                                                ****

Napoleon sat up in bed, gasping and clutching the bed covers.  The light clicked on and he blinked painfully.

“Hey, are you okay?”  The man posing the question was no longer the reed thin young Soviet who had walked from the Aeroflot plane.  Illya’s blond hair was shot with silver now.  His face, while still carrying his age well, had its share of wrinkles.  Napoleon grabbed him and hugged him close.  “I could hear you all the way out in the living room.”  Illya’s hand stroked Napoleon’s head gently.  “What’s wrong, my love.”

“Nothing.  It was just a nightmare.”  The admission did nothing to prevent tears from trickling down his cheeks.  His heart ached from each of their partings, even dreamt ones

“Work related?”  Even though they’d been out of the field for years, their Section Two days still came back to haunt them.

“No.  It was much worse.  I kept finding you and you kept dying.  Or you found me and I died.  Over and over again, from Roman times to World War I.”

“And you have found me yet again and we have had many, many years together.  Truly this has been a happy ending.”  

“I know.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because it feels as if I’m getting ready to lose you again.”

“Napoleon, we’re not dead yet and even when we do shuffle free of the mortal coil, I have every confidence that you will find me again or I, you.”  He kissed Napoleon gently.  “Some souls are destined to be together always.  We may have to say goodbye at times, but our hellos will soon follow. ” He sat back and grinned.  “Let me go turn the light out and I’ll come to bed.”

Napoleon reached up and drew Illya down onto the mattress.  “To hell with the light, Illya.  Love me right now.”

“All right.”  Illya took off his glasses and stretched out beside Napoleon.  He tried to say something, but Napoleon stopped the words with a kiss.  As far as he was concerned, there had been more than enough talking for one evening.


End file.
